


Jian Seng

by Shorm (Bdoing), Vinnocent



Series: Humanity Is Watching [1]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, Firefly
Genre: Blood and Gore, Eating Disorders, Emetophobia, Gun Violence, M/M, Mild Smut, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bdoing/pseuds/Shorm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinnocent/pseuds/Vinnocent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Jake Berenson makes his living as licensed salvager with the Hanover-class ship Jian Seng, the crew of his cousin Rachel (second in command), Tobias (pilot), and Cassie (mechanic), and the continued support of his best friend, Marco, who rents a spare shuttle from him. Unfortunately, this nice little setup gets thrown through a loop when a stranger brings on board an unexpected package...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Marco is a registered companion in this fic. After reviewing all the characters and their potential roles, we realized this was a very in-character choice for him. However, I felt it fair to go ahead and warn for that for anyone who does not like that. You can expect a lot of sex in this series, but it's unlikely to be very explicit.
> 
> Furthermore, Marco is referred to as a "whore" on a couple occasions in this fic, but we don't intend to toss that word around quite as casually as the series did.
> 
> Thanks to Shorm for translating the Mandarin.

Then…  
The sounds and the lights were dizzying. Marco tried to get up, but he couldn’t move. His vision blurred. “Jake?” he called out. “Jake!”

No answer except the continuing explosion of bombs. “JAKE!” Marco tried to drag himself up, despite his wobbling view of the landscape, but his feet just dragged, not responding. “JAKE, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Tears of pain and frustration trailed down his cheeks. “JAKE! JAKE, ANSWER ME!” He had to find him. He couldn’t lose Jake. If he lost Jake, then what had been the point? What was the point of risking his stupid, sorry ass on this godforsaken rock if he couldn’t save one single dumbass. “JAKE!!”

— —

Now…  
“Ah! Ahn!” the man below him gasped in pleasure as Marco moved above him in the exact calculated rhythm with the exact calculated countenance and demeanor that would make this man believe that he was loved and valued for something other than his ability to pay Marco’s fee. His name was Lu Cheng, and he was a banker on the central/almost-border planet of Persephone. He was a nice man. Dull as hell, but nice. Young and somewhat attractive, which didn’t hurt. And on that day, Marco was pretending to be _almost_  as inexperienced as Cheng and quite embarrassed about it, only to have that embarrassment melt away in Cheng’s thrall.

When Cheng was finished, Marco smiled down at him pleasantly before arching down to kiss him on the right pectoral, then giggling and blushing at his own action like a school girl. Cheng grinned up at him stupidly, head over heels in infatuation. Marco always calculated for strong infatuation. Love was messy.

Marco collapsed onto the bed next to Cheng, smiling into his shoulder and occasionally dotting it with kisses. Once Cheng’s breathing had returned to normal, he teased, “I suppose if your reputation is to be believed, I can expect to be robbed at this point.”

Marco glanced aside and blushed.

“Oh, come on, I was only teasing,” Cheng said, prodding him in the arm.

“I… I know,” Marco murmured, trailing a finger in simulated distraction along Cheng’s abdomen. “It’s just… Well, I don’t begrudge those who feel the need to start such rumors. Truly, I pity their insecurity.” He looked up at Cheng through his eyelashes. “But I do worry what it makes some people think of me… I’d hurt to think that the next time some ill befell you, that you would assume that I—"

“Never,” Cheng assured him, pulling him up into another kiss.

After a moment, Marco feigned self-consciousness as he confessed, “Worse yet, I think, I worry that maybe…”

“What?” asked Cheng, watching him worriedly.

Marco chewed his bottom lip slightly. “Well, what if I _do_  bear misfortune, somehow? I know it’s silly, but…”

“Impossible,” Cheng teased. “You’re far too pretty.”

Marco laughed and blushed. “Thank you for saying so,” he said, and he allowed Cheng to pull him closer against him and kiss him lazily. It was a good thing for Cheng that there _wasn’t_ a job on him; he was too naive to stand a chance.

Elsewhere on Persephone, Captain Jake Berenson of the Hanover salvager _Jian Seng_ was trying to sell a Capissen 38 Mark II engine. “It’s practically brand new!” he insisted.

“Yeah, and there’s a _reason_  you found a practically brand new engine on a derelict,” Angelo Donati snarled with his arms crossed over his round belly.

“... Reavers?” Jake guessed, feigning ignorance.

Angelo feigned exaggerated shock. “ _What?!_ Really? A ship with a Capissen 38 got caught by Reavers?! The Good Lord Himself couldn’t’ve predicted!” he cried.

Jake groaned and rubbed his brow. They’d been hauling this engine around for eight months trying to drop it somewhere. It was gonna cost them more in fuel cells than its weight in… Suddenly, Jake’s head perked up. “What’s it worth in scrap?” he asked.

Angelo thought about that. He snapped his fingers and said, “Now… Now, I think you’ve got an idea. A cut’s gonna have to be taken for the recommendation, and they’re gonna price you down for melting and separating the metals, but yeah, I think I’ve got a guy you can talk to.”

“I’d be mighty thankful,” Jake said with a sigh of relief.

Angelo nodded, pulling out a communication panel. “Alrigh’, I’ll just wave him, and send him over here,” he said.

“Thank you!” Jake turned back toward his ship and almost walked straight into a man with a very large crate. “Oh, excu—" He then noticed that the man was headed toward _his_  ship with that crate. “Uh…”

“It’s okay!” his cousin called as she came running suddenly down the ramp of the air lock. “I already approved it!”

Jake eyed Rachel suspiciously and pulled her aside as soon as the man was past, though the man did glance back at them uncertainly. “Rachel, you know there ain’t nothin’ unlawful on this boat I don’t know about,” he hissed.

Rachel laughed. Loudly. “ _What?_  Nooooo,” she told him. “No, I… I already had a peek. It’s just… It’s, y’know, merchandise. He’s a merchant.”

Jake groaned. Whatever she was up to, he didn’t have time for it. He knew she’d never get involved in something that would endanger him, even if she got involved in plenty of things that pissed him off. “Look, just go get Tobias and Cassie to help you haul the Capissen out here,” he ordered.

“You sold that shǐ dàn?” she asked, shocked.

“Yeah, a scrapper’s coming for it,” he said, trying to sound as serious as possible.

For a moment, Rachel looked confused. Then, a wide smile broke slowly across her face. “You mean it’s worth more melted?” she asked, laughter in her voice.

“Rachel…”

“It’s _worth more melted_!” she exclaimed, doubling over in laughter.

“Just get the gorram thing off my boat!” he shouted, pointing back toward the ship’s lock. Rachel waved him off but did return to the ship. On her way, she grabbed a confused Cassie, laughing to her about the obvious joke. Jake shook his head at her, then noticed Marco approaching on foot and hurried over to him. “Hey,” he said. “Why the hell are you walking here?”

“Shuttle won’t go,” Marco said, crossing his arms.

“You’re kidding,” Jake deadpanned.

“Yeah, this is my laughing face,” Marco snarled.

Jake shook his head. “Okay, as soon as we get the Capissen out—"

“You _sold_  that shǐ dàn?” Marco gasped, disbelieving. His eyes slid past him, and, before Jake could protest that the Capissen was not a shǐ dàn, Marco was shoving past him to approach a man who was standing around, staring at the ships. “You’re right,” Marco told him, grinning.

The young man, only a bit older than Marco and taller than him, looked at Marco with surprise. “I… didn’t say anything?” he said.

With his most charming smile, Marco said, “You were wondering if you should take this ship. You’re right.” He laughed good-naturedly at the man’s surprise. “I can read people. And you’ve got luggage with you, ready to travel, and yet, you’re looking at the ships, not their destinations. You’re a wanderer.” He nodded at the boat. “And these people are wanderers. You’ll be right at home.”

“And you’re with them?” asked the man. “A… _wandering_  companion?”

Marco cocked his head. “I didn’t say I was a companion,” he said. “You know me?”

The man blushed. “Uh, n-no, I’ve nev— I mean, not that—,” he stuttered. “Well, I just assumed, actually. Be-because of you saying that you read people a-and because… well…” The man glanced over him. “Well, you’re the only one out here with a bare midriff.”

Marco looked down at himself and shrugged. “Well, I’m a very charitable person,” he said. “So if I have such a lovely treasure, shouldn’t I let others enjoy it?” He smiled and nodded again toward the ship. “So, what do you say? Feel like being right?”

“I, uh…” The man looked over Marco again, and Jake rolled his eyes, wondering if it was the ship or Marco that was about to be taken for a ride. “I just have one more question…”

“Hm?” Marco asked innocently.

“Why is there blood on your trousers?”

The smirk fell right off Marco’s face. “What?” he demanded. The man pointed down toward his heel, and Marco made a noise of disgust. “Ugh, some pìyǎn tried to mug me.”

“ _What_?!” Jake demanded. “What happened?”

“... Some pìyǎn tried to mug me?” Marco repeated. “I thought that was clear?” He turned to Jake and laughed at his expression. “What? You think it’s _my_  blood?” He hit him on the arm and headed off toward where Cassie was helping Rachel and Tobias wheel the Capissen engine out. “I thought you knew me better than that, Big Jake.” As he approached them, he called out, “Hey, Beautiful, I need you to help me fetch my bird!”

Cassie turned to him with a disbelieving look. “What? What happened?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he told her. “Which is exactly the problem.”

— —

Then…  
Finally, the bastard was asleep. Carefully, Marco eased up and out of the small bed. As quietly as possible, he picked his clothes up off the floor and threw them on. Then, he tip-toed silently across the room to the door. He cracked it and glanced out, then eased through, slipping a coin into the latch to keep it from locking behind him.

As he made his way down the hall, he tried to look like the he belonged there, despite the fact that soldiers didn’t wear such pretty, expensive clothes. Or eyeliner, for that matter. Or long hair. Or jewelry. Okay, so he didn’t _belong_ , but luckily shipboard prostitutes weren’t exactly rare.

He pulled a panel out of his back pocket, tapping it to bring up the ship maps he’d been given by the Independent Faction and tried to find where he was so he could make his way down to the brig.

“Stop.”

Marco froze. Well, he turned the panel off, _then_  froze. “I, uh, was looking for the—"

“Present your ident card.”

Okay, that was simple enough. He _was_  employed by the general, after all. He fished in his pocket as he turned to face—

“Tom?” said Marco, dropping his card on the floor.

“Present your ident card,” Tom repeated in monotone, staring straight into Marco’s eyes without an ounce of recognition. Not an ounce of… anything, really.

Marco peered at him worriedly. “Tom, you okay?” he asked. “It’s me, Marco. Jake's friend?”

“Present your ident card,” Tom repeated, “or be annihilated.”

Slowly, Marco’s eyes widened. Not taking his gaze off Tom, he crouched down to pick up his card, then stood again and presented it to Tom. Tom took out a scanner and checked the card. After reading the screen, he nodded and moved on without a word.

Marco watched him go, then let himself fall heavily against the wall. “¿Qué carajo?”

— —

Now…  
“ _Jian Seng_ , this is shuttle one, preparing to dock,” Marco told the intercom.

“Fucking finally,” Tobias’s voice grumbled back.

“Well, excuse me for not having my own genius mechanic always at the ready,” Marco teased as he carefully slid the shuttle into its bay on the side of the boat with well-practiced maneuvers.

“I’m not a genius,” Cassie’s voice replied back. Of course, she was already back with shuttle two.

“You’re a miracle worker,” he insisted.

“Marco, all I did was read the manual and take you to buy parts.”

“Miraculous!”

He couldn’t hear her anymore, but he was confident that he’d made her laugh.

As the bay door slid down, Tobias replied, “Passengers are settling in now, but dinner’s at the usual time, and Captain’s inviting you for meet and greet.”

Marco groaned and rubbed his neck. Work work work. He knew that wasn’t what Jake was asking for, but a companion can’t ever drop their pleasant mask in front of anyone, and he already toed that line often enough as it was. Still, he supposed it was weird for passengers to know that someone they never saw was living reclusively in the shuttle.

 _This what you wanted,_ he reminded himself. He leaned forward and pressed the intercom button again. “Tell the captain I’ll be there. I just need to freshen up. Put my face on.” He didn’t wait for Tobias’s reply. He pulled himself wearily out of his seat and made his way to the back where he collapsed on a bed of brightly colored silk.

Okay, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d just take a bit of a nap, then head down to make nice with the passengers, and _then_ he could have some Marco Time. Right. Marco Time. In which he could relax and be himself by making the next month’s appointments, practicing his clarinet, practicing his dance, restocking all that fucking tea…

Marco groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the soft sheets. For the moment, at least, he could pretend that he was still eleven, and snuggled into his bed at home, before all the bad had happened. Before it suddenly became his job to be the breadwinner.

Unfortunately, there was a knock at his door. He pulled the pillow over his head. The knocking became louder. “Come on, asshole, I can’t stand out here all day!”

Well, at least for Rachel, he didn’t have to put his face on. Curious, Marco pulled himself out of bed, smoothed his hair back with one hand, and made his way toward the door, which he unlocked for her.

“Thank you!” Rachel said, pushing inside. Immediately, she turned, closed the door behind her, and locked it back.

“Uh…” he fumbled, confused.

“He’s here.” Rachel turned to him, breathing fast and deep, worry evident on her face. “Marco, he’s here. The guy came. I got a wave from Melissa right after we landed, and then there he was.”

“Oh my god,” said Marco. “You mean…?”

“It worked!” she cried. “We didn’t give away all our money for nothing. He’s here, and _he’s_ here. In a box. We have to wait, but… I saw the scans. It’s _him_. It worked.”

“Oh my god,” Marco repeated. “Jake’s gonna kill us.”

Rachel nodded emphatically, a wide grin bursting across her face. “Uh-huh!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit (8/23/14): On review, I decided Sergeant Reynolds to Sergeant Santorelli in the second flashback, as the original implied that Jake was a member of the 57th when that is unlikely to be true. (With this, I was also able to change his wording.) The first flashback takes place about two years later than the second, in Serenity Valley, at which point, Jake's brigade would have been absorbed by Mal's in accordance with show canon.

Then…  
“Marco? Marco, everything’s going to be okay,” Jake lied, desperately clutching at his best friend’s hand as screams echoed around him in the makeshift hospital. Marco was not screaming. Jake kind of wished he was. Marco wasn’t screaming because Marco had lost a dangerous amount of blood, and he didn’t really understand a lot of what was happening.

For instance, he still hadn’t noticed that he now ended just below the knee.

“Jake, I have to tell you something,” Marco slurred, looking around as though he couldn’t tell quite where Jake was. Nurses swarmed around them, occasionally trying to nudge Jake away, but they’d long since given up arguing with him about how much he was in the way.

“No, no, you hush up now,” Jake insisted, reaching over to brush Marco’s hair out of his face. “Hush up. You gotta save your energy. You can tell me later.”

“Gonna be dead later,” Marco murmured, closing his eyes for a moment.

That was when the dam broke. Tears flooded down down Jake’s cheeks. “No,” he said, voice breaking. “No, Marco, that’s not gonna happen. It can’t happen. I promised. I promised Peter I’d see you home.”

“I saw him,” Marco mumbled.

Jake shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Saw who?”

“Tom.”

Jake felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Was Marco delusional, or had his brother really thrown a grenade at his best friend? Well, he’d known it could happen some day. “Yeah,” he hissed. “Yeah, he’s Alliance. I told you that.”

“No.” Marco tried to shake his head, but it was more of a slight squirm. “No, on the ship. When I came got you. When I came… and got you, I saw… I saw him.”

There was a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Corporal,” his sergeant said sternly. “You’re needed on the line.”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Jake snipped, not even turning to face Reynolds.

“Have to… have to save Tom…” Marco slurred.

“No, Marco, Tom’s Alliance,” Jake said again, rubbing his face with the back of his hand and trying to sniff away the snot. “He’s supposed to be there.”

“Corporal,” Reynolds insisted, pulling harder.

“In a _minute_!” Jake snapped, pulling away roughly.

“No, no,” Marco insisted. “No, you don’t understand.”

“Corporal!” Reynolds snapped, pulling hard. When Jake turned to yell at him, Reynolds slugged him hard. Jake crumpled right into his arms.

“You don’t understand,” Marco continued murmuring. “They killed him, Jake. They killed him. He’s walking dead. You have… You have to save him.”

The sergeant watched the boy on the table for a moment, grimacing. It certainly didn’t look any kind of good. “Sorry for the fuss,” he mumbled to the medical staff as he began to pull Jake away. Then, he paused. “Though…” he said. “You should know… You don’t fix that boy, we’re down a corporal.”

\-- --

Now…  
The young man that Marco had flustered earlier turned out to be called Erek King, and he was, in fact, a wanderer. Like the rest of their passengers, he hadn’t had much to say about himself. He was about Jake’s height and build, but he looked to be Chinese, maybe Han, though Jake was making that assumption purely on comparing him to other people he’d met or known and knew it was just as likely he was wrong. His clothes weren’t as grubby as the most of the crew’s, but weren’t as nice as Marco’s or even Rachel’s. He was quiet and shy, and he’d paid his passage in food.

Sitting across from him was the man with the crate. He was beautiful and quite literally indescribable. His height and build was absolutely medium to everyone onboard. His hair was a medium brown. His skin was also in the “medium” range, close to Marco’s shade but a cooler tone compared to Marco’s dark olive. His features were so mixed as to be unplaceable, even compared to Tobias, who had previously been the most mixed person that Jake had met. Like Erek, he didn’t say much about himself, though he was cold about it instead of flustered. He was a merchant, headed to Aberdeen on business. His name was Alan Fangor. End of story.

Which left the twins at the end of the table. They smiled when eyes turned to them. At the same time. It was kind of creepy. “Well, my name’s Darwin Kim,” said the one.

Cassie smiled amicably. “Oh, really?” she said. “Wow, I’ve never met a Darwin before.”

“Have you ever met a Madra?” asked the other.

 _That_ got Fangor’s attention. His gaze immediately swung in her direction. He swallowed, almost like he was nervous of her. “Madra?” he repeated. “Is that… um…”

“Is it Korean?” she asked. “No, our mother was…” She glanced to her brother.

“Creative,” he supplied.

“Ah,” said Fangor. He didn’t look like he believed her. That was certainly an interesting development, and interesting developments were rarely beneficial, so Jake found himself burying a scowl and making mental notes. Perhaps Marco would have more insight. To be truthful, that was the main reason Jake liked to have him meet the passengers. About every time someone was up to trouble, Marco sniffed it first.

And think of the devil… Jake stood from his chair as Marco entered. He’d changed clothes into something more conservative, which wasn’t a great sign. Jake would have to check in on him later. “Well, everyone, may I introduce you to the envoy of our little ship, Companion Marco Guerra,” he said, gesturing to his friend. “Marco, this is Alan Fangor, Erek King, Darwin Kim, and Madra Kim.”

Marco smiled with perfect blandness. “It’s a pleasure,” he assured them mildly.

“You won’t be seeing much of him,” Jake told the passengers quickly before anyone could get ideas. “He likes to keep to his shuttle. But we like to have everyone meet. It’s a long trip for strangers.”

“Well, ain’t that something,” said Madra, grinning up at Marco. “I didn’t know they had boy whores.”

Marco’s smile faltered only slightly, but before he could say anything, Tobias entered, saying, “And if you wanna keep saying that word, I can show you where the door is.”

Jake quickly cleared his throat as Tobias took his seat next to Rachel. “And, uh, this is the last member of our crew, Tobias Matsumoto,” he said, and again, the name got Fangor’s attention, though he didn’t comment again. “And… and he’s kidding. We don’t… _But_ , he ain’t wrong. While I appreciate that there are differences of view on certain topics, we won’t be havin’ insults to anyone on this ship. Like I said, it’s a big pond we’re crossin’.”

Madra looked at them in confusion. “What’d I say?” she asked.

“It’s nothing,” Marco said quickly. “I’m not here to cause a commotion. And, like the captain said, it’s unlikely you’ll be seeing much of me anyway.”

“Is there no food left?” Tobias asked, looking under a dish cover in the middle of the table to see it empty.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Rachel said, reaching back to pull a plate off a counter.

“Well, now that I’ve met everyone, I think I should like to take my leave, if that’s alright by the cap--" Marco started. He stopped when Rachel took the cover off Tobias’s plate.

Tobias’s eyes widened. “Is that… Is that a whole _salad_?” he asked, disbelieving. He looked around at the table, suddenly concerned. “Did somebody rob a bank?”

Cassie laughed while Erek blushed. “Mr. King here’s been kind enough to pay his fare in fruit an’ veg. More’n enough, so everybody gets a share,” she explained. She caught Marco’s look with a smile. “For you, too. I saved y’ a tomato an’ some strawberries in that box. You can take ’em back to your ship.”

“Thank you,” Marco breathed. “Thank you, too, Mr. King. I’m sure you know what a rarity fresh produce is to inveterate travelers.” He moved toward the counter to fetch the small box that Cassie had indicated.

“My family owns a hydroponics station,” he explained. “And, well, these things don’t last, so I can’t take them far with me. As you said earlier, some wealth should be shared.”

“You’re not going to eat with us?” Darwin asked, surprised as Marco moved back toward the door.

Marco hesitated. “I assure you, it’s no comment on the company,” he said vaguely.

“Companions don’t eat in front of people. Ruins the illusion,” Jake explained, not noticing the sharp look from Marco. “And that’s a deep-set habit. Can’t talk him out of it. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Rachel pointed to him with her fork. “You know, I’ve wondered,” she said. “How in the hell did y’ get through a whole war without eatin’ in front’f people?”

“I do seem to recall a few occasions of my corporal inserting cold beans in my mouth and forcing me to swallow,” Marco said quietly with just a hint of icy irritation. His arms moved from behind him to in front of him, and he shifted his weight away from the passengers.

Fangor raised an eyebrow at that. “You were in the war?” he asked.

Marco shrugged noncommittally and said, “We’ve all made our mistakes.” Madra laughed at that. He glanced to Jake. “If I’m dismissed…?”

Jake nodded, and Marco took his leave. Darwin whispered something to Madra, and she laughed again. Tobias gave them another sharp look, but Rachel reached under the table to squeeze his knee. They’d learned quickly after he joined the ship that there were some insults that he took personally, even if they weren’t aimed at him.

“So what is it that you two do?” Fangor asked the twins.

“Well, the simplest answer is that we work with the prison system,” Madra said with a wicked grin.

Half the table got a _lot_ quieter. Jake shot a look at Rachel, but she mouthed that she hadn’t been the one to approve them. Cassie lowered in her seat.

“And you’re headed to Aberdeen?” Erek asked curiously.

Darwin shrugged. “Not sure,” he said. “Starting to think we might’ve got what we needed on Persephone.”

That seemed to lead only to silent confusion, so Erek changed the subject, asking Jake, “If you don’t mind my asking… the name of this ship…?”

“ _Jian Seng_?” Jake repeated. “That was Marco’s idea.”

“The guy renting the shuttle named the ship?” Darwin said incredulously.

Jake shrugged. “We go back a ways,” he explained.

“But… It’s the name of a derelict ocean vessel,” Erek said. “Back on Earth That Was.”

Jake nodded. “A famous one, actually. Something of a ghost ship. Or as close as you can get to one and still actually have a ship,” he explained. “He thought it a good name for a salvager.”

Rachel glanced about the table, confused. “Is this suddenly a known thing?” she asked. “Was there a trivia program recently?”

Erek blushed. “I’m just… a bit of a history buff, I guess.”

“I think it’s nice,” Cassie said mildly. “Everyone should have an interest to be knowledgeable about.”

\-- --

Then…  
“Berenson,” Sergeant Santorelli barked from somewhere behind him as Jake stared out over the valley through the scope of his rifle, laying on his belly.

“Yeah?” he replied, only barely stifling a yawn.

“There’s a prostitute here for you.”

“ _What?_ ” Jake jerked up onto his knees and turned to Santorelli, shocked to see the young man standing next to his sergeant. “Marco?” He quickly got to his feet. “I haven’t seen you in years! The hell are you doing here?”

“Well,” said Marco with a deeply unamused expression, “I _was_ over there.” He pointed skyward to indicate the Union of Allied Planets Navy. “When my client thought it was an amusing story to relate how they’d discovered that, among these Independent pendejos, there was actually a corporal from the central planets. From a wealthy family with a good name. And I get this deep, down sick feeling, and I say to him, ‘Which central planet?’ And you know what he says to me?”

Jake glanced self-consciously to his sergeant, who was watching them both with a raised eyebrow. “Ariel?” Jake guessed quietly.

“ _Ariel_ ,” Marco confirmed. He was angry. “Ariel City, in fact. Named Berenson. He says that, and then everyone has a good laugh, because it’s all so _fucking stupid_. What the fuck are you doing out here, man?” He was really angry.

Jake shrugged and said, “The right thing?”

Marco nodded and snorted derisively. “I just knew you’d say that,” he grunted.

Jake couldn’t help smiling, despite the fact that he was being chastised in the most awkward way possible. “You come all the way out here just to yell at me?” he asked.

“I came all the way out here to see if I could keep your dumb ass from getting killed,” Marco told him. “Plan A was talking reason.”

Jake rubbed his brow. “I hope Plan B wasn’t kidnapping,” he said. “My parents already tried that.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Yes, because the _last_ time they hired mercenaries went _so_ well,” he said. He shook his head. He dug around in pocket, then held out a small data porter, about the size of a deck of cards, to Sergeant Santorelli. “Plan B,” he said, “is to _pray_ that you _somehow_ obtain the data you need to see yourselves through this.”

The sergeant took the data porter with surprise. “What is it?” he asked cautiously.

Marco glanced at it with the surprised look of someone who was seeing the device for the very first time ever. “I have no idea,” he told him. “You didn’t get that from me. And it _definitely_ didn’t originate from the personal data box of my most recent client.”

Santorelli's eyes widened. He glanced to Jake questioningly. Jake was wearing the most absurd grin. Suddenly, he leapt forward and hugged his childhood friend enthusiastically, exclaiming “¡Te amo!”

“Get off. You can’t afford my hugs,” Marco snarled. “And I better not find my ass back behind Independent lines for you again.”

Jake snickered and released him. “Are you kidding me?” he laughed. He reached out and nudged Marco’s chin playfully. “This face is far too pretty for war.”

\-- --

Now…  
“Captaaain…” Tobias pestered over the intercom as Jake rolled over in his bed and tried to pretend he didn’t hear. “Captain Sleepybutt. You should _really_ come up here.”

“What is it?” he groaned, pulling his pillow over his head.

“I might have just intercepted a transmission from one of our passengers to the Alliance,” he said.

Jake blinked awake, letting that sink in. Finally, he turned over. “Okay? That’s weird,” he admitted. “What’d it say?”

“That the contraband has been located. Followed by our coordinates and trajectory,” Tobias answered. “There’s also two security codes on it.”

Jake leapt to his feet. “Lock the twins in their cabin,” he said, pulling his belt off the floor. “Summon Rachel and Fangor to the cargo hold. You and Cassie don’t move.”

“Fangor?” Tobias repeated. “Why Fangor?”

Jake shoved his pistols into the holsters on his belt. “Because that moron bought _something_ off of him, and I’m gonna find out what,” he said. He jumped up to pull his door open and quickly climbed up into the hall. He made his way to the cargo, where Rachel and Fangor were already running up to stop him.

“Jake! Jake, you can’t!” Rachel was shouting.

“Do you have any idea the trouble you’ve brought?!” Jake demanded. “This is why you don’t work solitary, Rach. You don’t tell us what you’re doing, we can’t keep off the _very_ people you’re trying to avoid.”

“Okay, I know,” she said. “Well, I don’t, but… Sorry for whatever fuckup I made. So can we just leave it at that?”

“No, we can _not_ ,” Jake snarled, storming toward the crate. “What I am going to do is open up this contraband and decide whether ejecting it or handing it over will cause the least trouble.” He stood before the controls, looking for a button that said some version of “open.”

“No, you can’t open it yet!” Fangor insisted.

“Why the hell not?” Jake demanded, still reading buttons.

“To be released too soon means that he will experience confusion and possibly palpitations and purging,” Fangor answered.

Jake froze. He turned back to them. “ _He_?” he repeated. “You bought a _person_?!”

“Jake, it’s not what it--"

But it was too late, Jake pounded the release button. With a hiss of compressed air, the lid lifted slightly, and Jake shoved it off. He peered down in disbelief, unable to decide whether to cry or to scream.

“We were going to tell you,” Rachel said quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

Then…  
“Jake, you have to talk to someone sometime,” Tom said, sitting outside his brother’s door. Predictably, he continued not to reply. “Jake… Please? I’m leaving in a few days, so I can’t— AGH!” Tom cried out in surprise when the door he was leaning against suddenly opened behind him.

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Jake demanded.

Tom looked up at him from the floor and shrugged. “While you were gone, I got my acceptance wave for the military academy,” he said.

“And you were gonna tell me when?” Jake demanded.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Weeks ago, when it happened. Unfortunately, you were busy being kidnapped at the time,” he sneered. “And you haven’t spoken to anyone since you got back. Why are you so mad to be home?”

“I’m not mad to be home,” Jake said more quietly. “I’m mad about how they got me home.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Well, there’s only so many sorts of ships that even go out to the rim…”

“No, I mean… They hired _mercenaries_ ,” said Jake.

“Yeah?” said Tom. “Jake, if they’d paid the kidnappers, they probably would’ve just killed you after they got the ransom money. Mercenaries make sure you come back.”

“ _Me_ , yeah,” said Jake. “But they don’t care at all about shooting anyone they feel like shooting. People that weren’t even in the way.”

“You mean kidnapper people?” said Tom.

“No! There were others!”

“Jake…” Tom sighed and shook his head, finally sitting up from the floor. He turned again to his brother. “Look, you were with them a while. You’re bound to see them as more human than you expected, but—"

“Not the kidnappers! The _people_!” Jake insisted. “Tom, you haven’t seen how they live out there.”

“That doesn’t excuse kidnapping,” Tom said.

“THEY WEREN’T KIDNAPPERS! THEY WERE BYSTANDERS! WILL YOU LISTEN TO WHAT I’M TELLING YOU?!”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that wasn’t—"

“Ugh, why don’t you just go off to your stupid school and learn how to be a murderer, too?” Jake snarled, slamming his door shut again.

“What?” Tom laughed. “Jake! Jake, come on!”

\-- --

Now…  
“Alliance,” said Jake. “You brought _Alliance_ on this ship in secret?”

“What? Jake, that’s not Alliance, that’s Tom!” Rachel insisted.

“Who is an _Alliance soldier_!” Jake exclaimed.

Suddenly, Tom gasped awake, jerking upright in the crate, and Jake jumped back in surprise. Fangor rushed forward to his side to check his vitals. “Step away from the crate, cǎo chīde rén!” Madra’s voice suddenly exclaimed. They turned to see her standing in the entryway with a gun pointed at them. Her brother stood behind her with one arm wrapped around Marco’s neck and the other pressing a gun to Marco’s head. They had removed one of Marco’s prosthetic legs, enabling him to walk only so long as he stayed with Darwin. He was distinctly unhappy.

Jake, Rachel, and Fangor put their hands up. Tom vomited over the side of the box. “Look,” said Jake, “I didn’t know he was here. You want your soldier back, you can have him.”

“He’s not a soldier!” Fangor insisted. “He’s a—" He was cut off when Madra shot him in the chest. Jake barely had a moment to flinch before Tom was up out of the crate, had grabbed a gun from Jake’s belt, and had shot both Darwin and Madra between the eyes, pulling Marco down with them. Instinctively, Jake reached for his other gun, and Tom turned to him.

“PAUSA!” Fangor screamed through the blood welling in his mouth.

Tom froze exactly where he was, with the barrel of Jake’s gun pressed right between Jake’s eyebrows. Jake just stood there, staring, until Rachel pulled him away. “I tried to tell you!” she insisted, as Tom just kept standing there with the gun aimed at where Jake used to be, not even blinking. His face was totally emotionless. It had been the entire time. “He’s not a _soldier_. He’s a _weapon_.”

\-- --

Tom was staring. “Don’t— Aren’t you…?” he struggled.

She smiled kindly. “I know this is something of a surprise, Thomas,” she said. “And, to be honest, I considered never calling you here, in order to preserve my cover. But you have impressed us. And we’d like to transfer you to a specialized program. A secret program, which _I_ oversee.”

“But… what about my family?” he said.

She laughed. “Thomas, your family is full of murderers and traitors.”

Tom shook his head. Were they? Yes. Yes, he’d known that. But… “But Jake. Jake, I’ve seen him.”

“Did you kill him?” she asked.

“No. No, I… someone said stop.”

“But we want you to kill him,” she said, smiling. “We want you to kill all of them.”

Tom woke with a start, but he found that he was tied down. White ceiling, white lights above him. He looked to the left and blinked until he was able to focus on the boxes and containers of medical supplies that lined the cabinets. A hospital? He looked to the right and found his brother sitting in a chair, staring at him coolly. Behind his brother was another table, like the one that Tom was tied to. There was a body on it. A body that seemed like it might be dead.

His brother made noises. Why was he making noises? Tom didn’t understand. He stared at him, not knowing how to make him understand that he didn’t understand.

His brother made more noises, louder and faster. They hurt Tom’s head, made him want to run away or cry or hide, but he couldn’t do any of those things because he was tied down. Had his brother done this? Why would he do this?

His brother left. It was just Tom in the room, then. Tom and the corpse.

\-- --

“I… I am not certain that I understand these circumstances,” Erek said, sitting at one end of the kitchen table as he watched the crew warily. Cassie was sitting with her arm around her best friend, though she wasn’t quite sure yet what she was comforting her over, while Tobias sat at the other end, closest to the bridge. Marco sat with his chair pushed back, still going through all the response checks for his left leg prosthesis.

“Yeah, I could do with more explaining, too,” Jake growled angrily as he entered from the hall. “Tobias, there a reason you’re sittin’ pretty?”

“Uh, I already got the course changed,” said Tobias. “Rachel said you’d probably want everyone ready together.”

“Well, you’re just brimmin’ with good ideas lately, ain’tcha?” Jake snapped at Rachel. She only pouted up at him in reply.

“How’re they doing?” asked Cassie.

“Tom’s woken, but non-verbal,” Jake answered. “Fangor’s getting increasingly dead-like.”

“I have some medical training,” Erek said quickly. “I might be able to help.”

Jake nodded. “I’d appreciate that,” he said. “Tobias, see it over.” Tobias nodded and stood and moved to guide Erek to the infirmary. Jake returned his attention to Marco and Rachel. “Well?” he said. “Explain this to me.”

Finally, Marco put his foot back on the floor. “You remember the last time I saw Tom?” he asked.

Jake nodded. “You said you saw him when you rescued me from the patrol cruiser,” he recounted. “You told me he was strange atcha, and I said I didn’t want to hear it.”

Marco nodded. “Well… I kept at it. Especially when I found out that, even after the war was done, he still didn’t come home, even though he wasn’t listed KIA or MIA. All I found, though, were rumors and ghost stories,” he explained. “Then, Rachel figured me out. She set me up with a contact of hers, Melissa Chapman. Chapman was a contact for a group involved with anti-Alliance espionage and recovery.”

“Theft,” Jake translated. “Spying on and thieving from the _government_.”

Marco shrugged. “Yeah, well… There was a list. ‘If, in all your thieving and spying, you happen to come across this one thing, then contact this person.’ I asked them to keep an eye out for anything involving Tom. For the past four years, I’ve been feeding them money to stay on that list. Rachel has, on occasion, helped out. I knew how likely it was that they were just scamming me, but it was the only lead I had, and I knew… something was wrong. I’d seen it in him, and I…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t _look_ at you without knowing I’d at least _tried_ to set things right.”

“But it did work!” Rachel insisted, her voice cracking slightly. There were tears brimming in her eyes, though she’d never let them fall with people looking. “Jake, it _did_! They started finding things. The Alliance, they had more than one experiment. On people. Both soldiers and citizens. In the program that Tom was in, they were working on ‘perfect’ soldiers. Carving all the person out and leaving only a series of commands.”

“And then the word came,” said Marco. “They had a location. If I could cover the costs of the endeavor, they’d go get Tom.”

“We didn’t hear from them again for over a month,” said Rachel. “I updated Melissa every time we landed, but it was becoming clear that we’d gotten swindled. Until we landed on Persephone. She told me there would be a man with a box. And there he was.”

Wearily, Jake dropped into the seat that Erek had vacated. “And you didn’t tell me at that point because…?”

Marco and Rachel exchanged guilty glances. “We… debated some,” Marco admitted. “But… we just… it was so close, it didn’t seem like a big deal to wait a bit longer just to know what it was we had, exactly. To be able to prepare you.” He looked down at his hands. “In truth, we were cowards, and that’s the primary reason why this went so far south, and ‘I’m sorry’ is never going to cover it, but… I _am_ sorry.”

Rachel nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” she said.

“I don’t understand,” said Cassie. “ _What_ happened in the cargo hold?”

Rachel shrugged helplessly. “Jake opened the box, and Tom revived. The twins tried to hold Marco hostage, and they shot Alan. I guess the guns triggered Tom or something?” she guessed. “Basically… he did what he’s supposed to do. He obtained a weapon and shot them. Tried to shoot Jake, too, so I don’t think he had any understanding of ‘sides’ at the time. Anyway, Alan said something, and Tom stopped. Said something else to make him sleep, but then Alan lost consciousness.”

“Melissa said there were trigger words he’d been programmed with,” Marco explained. “All in Latin. Alan was supposed to give us the full details, but we haven’t had space to do that yet.”

Jake leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, burying his head in his hands. He stayed that way for a few minutes before he pulled back again. “Look, I…” he started. “Well, to be honest, I’m still really super pissed and just barely holdin’ that down ‘cuz I get what you were aimin’ for. But, as grateful as I might be for the effort you put in saving him… showing me what was really hap’ning…”

He looked around at them. “You do realize that you have put us in an enclosed space with a _killing machine_?”

\-- --

“Is he going to be okay?” Tobias asked, watching Erek work.

“Which one?” asked Erek.

“... Either, I suppose,” Tobias said, despite the fact that Fangor had had the majority of his attention.

“I don’t know,” said Erek. “Maybe not.” He turned away from Tom to indicate Alan's unconscious form. “The bullet tore up a lot of important stuff. Jake appears to know how to treat a battle wound, but he’s not a doctor.” He returned his attention to Tom, who was still tied to the second exam table. “He seems calm for now. He’s tracking. He appears interested in the world around him, even a bit frightened. But he clearly doesn’t understand anything we say, and he isn’t even attempting to communicate with us. It’s like the whole idea of communication has been wiped out.” He looked to Tobias. “I don’t know if that can ever be fixed. The equipment here couldn’t possibly measure it.”

Tobias frowned thoughtfully. “If you did have the right equipment?” he wondered.

“What do you mean?” asked Erek.

“Would you have the ability to assess his damage if you had the right equipment?” Tobias asked.

“... Yes,” said Erek. “Yes, I would. But why does that matter?”

Tobias shrugged. “Just getting all the details.”

\-- --

Then…  
“No! Hey!” Marco cried in horror as Tom stole the ball from him while Jake, laughing, grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back behind the line. “Cheating!” Marco cried. “Cheaters!”

Tom quickly tossed the ball through the loop, gaining yet another point. “I bet they won’t have this much fun on Sihnon,” he taunted before tossing the ball to his brother.

“If by ‘fun’ you mean ‘cheating,’ no, I don’t think the companions will be doing a lot of that,” Marco groused as he shifted position to join Tom in opposition against Jake.

Jake moved forward, dribbling the ball. Marco jumped forward in an attempt to steal it, but Jake merely smoothly transferred the ball to his other hand. Where Tom immediately, snatched it and scored again.

“Ugh, _why_ did I invite you again?” Jake demanded.

“Because you need at least three people to play Timer Ball,” Tom reminded him, sticking his tongue out at him.

“Shoulda invited Dad. He’s not _varsity_ ,” Jake grumbled.

Marco rolled his eyes. “Shoulda done something _I_ like,” he countered.

That took Jake by surprise. “What?” he said. “You love Timer Ball!”

“Since when?” Marco demanded, offended.

Tom doubled over laughing. “Wow, you are _so_ good at reading and accommodating people,” he teased his little brother. “Maybe _you_ should be headed to Sihnon.”

“Shut up,” Jake pouted, walking over to pick up the ball. “So what do you want to do?”

“Now?” Marco demanded. He took the blinking red ball from Jake and passed it to Tom. “I’m not giving up before I _win_.”

Jake laughed. “I’m not just gonna let you win because you’re leaving, Marco,” he taunted.

“Better not,” Marco snarled.

“Are we playing or am I just gonna stand here until the batteries die?” Tom demanded. The two younger boys exchanged mischievous glances, then charged.


End file.
